


Every Breath You Take

by indecisive_strike



Series: No Time To Die [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Depression, Eye Trauma, First Time, Knifeplay, M/M, Physical Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Romanticized Abuse, Rough Sex, Stalking, You say some dumb shit and Michael absolutely takes advantage of it to fuck (with) you, dub-con, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisive_strike/pseuds/indecisive_strike
Summary: There's a ghost haunting you, always at the edge of your vision but never willing to step into the light. As Michael finally closes in on you, you decide to take a risk if that's what it takes to stay alive.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader
Series: No Time To Die [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670032
Comments: 5
Kudos: 112





	Every Breath You Take

**Author's Note:**

> Please make sure you read the tags! This probably isn't as "bad" as some other Michael fics but y'know.

It had been so long since you had felt something, anything that broke through the pool of your thoughts and created a splash. While cost-effective, attending a local community college and living at home had never been your dream. As your parents moved into early retirement and chose to spend their money on traveling the world thanks to your sacrifice, you were left behind to take care of the house. Checking the mail, doing the dishes, going to class, no dates or parties; day in and day out of a life that seemed increasingly insignificant. To say that it was beginning to depress you was an understatement.

All of your friends had moved on to other universities or internships away from the small town of Haddonfield, which made it so easy to become a recluse. It wasn’t as if you had done it on purpose, but when the realization that you just wouldn’t  _ click  _ with anyone in your courses came you decided that you wouldn’t fight it. By now the way you drifted through life had just become second nature, and maybe that’s why you didn’t react the first time you saw him.

The man standing outside of your window was barely visible through the thick foliage of the woods just beyond your fence line, yet the unmistakable flash of white had resembled a face. When you looked again it was gone. You were so  _ tired  _ in more than a merely physical way that it was easy enough to write off as your imagination trying to function with a constant lack of stimulation. Even when it seemed to pop up in more places, you found yourself mildly excited by even the tiniest prospect of a change in routine. 

You got a cup of coffee and saw him across the street until a car obscured your vision and he disappeared. You sat in class and stared out of the window only to see him looking back at you, although he was gone when you glanced back after taking some notes. You went grocery shopping and thought a pale man was eyeing you from across the parking lot. Weeks passed and he became so much more present in your life than anyone else, even though he seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

But he wasn’t one to keep his distance forever.

If there was anything that still kept your attention, it was cooking. You had

become proficient in more than pasta very quickly after the microwavable meals left by your mother had run out and soon graduated from cooking books to making your own dishes. 

It all started when you preheated the oven to bake some bread and left to take a quick shower while the machine performed its magic. When you returned fifteen minutes later with wet hair and a faint, fruity aroma the kitchen lights were off and so was the oven. Although it was easy enough to explain the situation away when your memories had developed the annoying habit of blending together, there was no denying the chill that ran down your spine regardless. You turned the oven back on and didn’t leave the kitchen this time. 

Things began to escalate. You didn’t see him anymore, not during a trip out of the house nor while you were home, which would have been okay were it not for how your keys were never where you set them down or how the thermostat constantly changed settings without you touching it. It was only now that his overwhelming presence began to suffocate you that you realized how alone you actually were. Who would you call? Your parents? They were half a world away. Your friends? You had no close ones anymore. The police? With what little evidence you had they would laugh and tell you not to call again.

Time continued to move at the same pace, but you found it harder to keep up. He was here, real and tangible, and the way he messed with you in the most subtle ways just pulled you further away from the world beyond your home. The way you floated through life while barely leaving a mark was turning into a sluggish trudge. Your grades were slipping and you barely took care of yourself, yet no one ever asked. You wanted nothing more than for someone,  _ anyone _ , to reach out and help you up but it was clear that you were losing the race and those watching from the sidelines had long since moved on.

A time came when you became too exhausted even to cook. Who needed the flavourful joy of beef stroganoff when greasy take-out was only a dial away. You picked up the landline with a flyer for a Chinese restaurant in your other hand. It only rang for a second before someone answered.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you replied. It was silent for a moment.

“Listen, are you going to order or not?”

“Right, sorry. Could I get the beef lo mein and two egg rolls?”

“Sure.” There was another pause. “What’s the address?”

A wave of embarrassment passed over you as you quickly blurted out your street and the house number and quickly hung up, although not fast enough to miss the guy on the other line mutter a brief insult. ‘What a fuckin’ idiot.”

The words stung more than you had expected. Had you really forgotten how to converse in the few months you had been isolated? That was a question you had no desire to dwell on, so you plopped yourself down on the couch and turned on the TV. A cheesy romance movie was the most interesting thing playing and you decided it would be enough to keep you occupied until your food arrived.

You had missed the start of the film, but weren’t all of these stories the same anyway? A boy met a girl and they went from opposites to lovers in the span of an hour and a half. Still, the cliches didn’t bother you when you yearned for just a fraction of the chemistry written for the teens on screen. You became lost in your thoughts as you remembered your own high school days and for once the nostalgia was not soured by the thought that those moments had slipped through your fingers like sand at the beach. For a brief moment, you existed in a world where the man with a mask did not exist.

Unfortunately for those blissful seconds, tonight was the night he had decided to make himself known to you. You had almost drifted off on the couch when you felt the same disconcerting shiver that had bothered you since that first one-sided encounter in the kitchen. Suddenly, you became hyper-aware of your surroundings for the first time in ages. The tick-tock of the wall clock seemed deafening as you muted the television and looked around with wide eyes. With a nearly full moon shining through the window, the shadows of your living room seemed longer and just the tiniest bit more sinister. The air itself had changed, filled with the empty static that came before a lightning strike. Once again you thought of how alone you were.

That was until you heard the muffled, yet audible, breathing from just a few feet behind you. Your chest froze so that you could assure yourself that you had mistaken the noise in your rising panic… but there it was again. Your body turned before you could change your mind about it and suddenly you were face to face with the ghost that had been haunting your life for far too long. The things you noticed, in order, were his incredible height, his intimidatingly blank mask, and his long, gleaming knife, as if this was a twisted version of Little Red Riding Hood and the stalker you had subconsciously been romanticizing had revealed his identity as the Big, Bad Wolf.

In an instant, your habits of letting life do what it wanted with you were erased as instinct kicked in. You were up the stairs and then behind the door of your bedroom before the thought of getting up from the couch even crossed your mind. The killer had been mildly surprised by your quick movement, but he was only seconds behind you. With the way his weight banged against the door, you knew you wouldn’t have long but that didn’t matter if your mind was too shattered to think clearly. 

_ There was no phone. No one would find you. No one would even look. Maybe your parents would call. He was so big in every way. Your take-out was on the way. The delivery guy would be pissed and leave as you bled out. So massive compared to your slight frame. You were going to rot. Decompose. He was going to kill you and you would truly be gone this time. Decay and- _

**Crack.**

Your only line of defense was now gone and the looming figure of your killer blocked the light coming in from the hall. He stepped closer as you stared at him with the wide eyes of a deer caught in deadly headlights from the floor at the foot of your bed. You had nowhere to go, not even enough time to pathetically crawl under your bed. 

The bullet train of your thoughts had derailed completely, leaving you with a simple, yet absolutely insane notion. Here was the one person who had seen you without looking through you in so,  _ so  _ long and you wouldn’t let this final opportunity slip through your grasp as the rest had.

“Wait, wait! Please wait! I just-” you struggled to make a sentence as he came closer and closer still. “I just want to ask one thing. Please.”

Michael Myers did not stop moving, but his head cocked to the side as if he did have a sliver of interest in what kind of request you would make. By now he had gotten used to his victims begging for their lives, but he was also experienced enough to know that you were somewhat different; unremarkable in every way except that you might even be looking forward to how this would end for you. It was rather boring for him, yet the idea that he might be the one to force you to feel something again, for your final moments, no less, delighted him in a perverse way. In the time that he had watched you, Michael had become keenly aware of how distant you had become from the world around you. Although you refused to die at your own hand, you were hanging on to life by a thread. 

As he began to kneel over you, bringing that unusually large kitchen knife ever nearer to your chest, the words finally rushed out of your mouth. “Please, please, just a kiss!” 

He stopped moving, but your eyes were squeezed shut so tight in sheer terror that you barely noticed. “It’s been so long-” Tears came flooding out of your eyes. “So long since I’ve even touched another person. But you know that, right? It was you that was watching me,  _ right? _ ” Your voice was so close to breaking. “Please, I don’t care what you do after that but just let me have that!”

The room was unbearably silent as he contemplated what to do and you shook beneath your would-be judge, jury, and executioner. All you heard was your blood pumping through your ears at record-breaking speed until you felt chapped, yet shockingly soft, lips meet your own. He had pulled up his mask just far enough to expose his lower face for you. It took a moment for you to respond, but that was all the invitation Michael needed.

Unbeknownst to you, what you had started was a far more dangerous game than the one he had intended to play with you. Michael was a monster that took anything he could take from another person. He would steal your lips before he stole your life, but there was far more space in between. The knife clattered to the ground just out of your reach, although you both knew that you were too weak, both mentally and physically, to make a pass at it without him overpowering you. 

You could sense how hungry he was and for the moment you were content with deluding yourself it was because of you and not due to how little time he had to satisfy himself while on a hunt. One of his hands wrapped around your waist and held you closer as the other snaked up your abdomen. His body was impossibly hot, which was almost comforting to you in a primal way. However, the gentle moment ended quickly when his free hand found its way to your neck and began to squeeze. With how irregular your breathing had been for the last five or so minutes, it only took seconds for darkness to creep into your vision, but he released his hold before you could pass out. At that point, you were thankful for the small mercy, but Michael would make sure that you wished for unconsciousness before he was done with you.

As you panted for air, you became acutely aware of something that he had already noticed and was quite smug about: the throbbing in your groin. The only thing between Michael and your steadily growing erection were the boxers you had foolishly decided were enough to wear while lounging around the house. Through his obvious murderous intent, you could sense a hint of satisfaction and suddenly you wondered if your bold request had really been a good idea. Saving yourself from what you had thought you were afraid of, the crushing loneliness, had gone much further than intended if he had the same urges you did.

Once again, the two of you were still as your thoughts speeded like an expensive car on a lonely road and he remained unreadable through the battered rubber mask. While the thickening sexual tension was not entirely unwelcome, this was something you had never done before. You were scared, more so than before, and it was your fear that helped Michael finally shatter the illusion of him wanting you as a consenting party. Whether or not you were interested was not his concern when he could instead enjoy the horrified look on your face when he grabbed your hair and slammed your head against the wooden bed frame. Colorful spots danced before your eyes as you slid to the ground. This was what you had wanted, right? The increasing need between your thighs said that you did and you were in no state to disagree.

You were brought back to reality by the sound of Michael unzipping his jumpsuit. Somehow you were not surprised that he did not seem to have anything on beneath it and under other circumstances, you would have been completely enraptured by his toned physique, but right now your eyes were fixed on the knife that you hadn’t noticed him pick up again. Your heart began to beat even more furiously as he brought it toward you until it was clear he only intended to free you of your clothes… for the moment.

The sharp blade made quick work of your undergarments and he didn’t care enough to slice away your top, although it didn’t do much to save you from feeling ashamed and more vulnerable than ever. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet the piercing eyes staring through the holes of his mask, but he didn’t need your attention to continue.

Michael’s fingers intertwined themselves in your hair once more as he pulled you forward so violently that you practically fell onto his lap. What he wanted was beyond obvious, so you gingerly tugged the half removed jumpsuit out of the way to confront his length. Just like the rest of him, it was massive. You wondered how you could be expected to fit all of him inside of your mouth, but Michael made that decision for you as well. Being the master of controlling other humans that he was, it was easy for him to get you to open your mouth by roughly yanking on your hair and then shoving you down. You choked on his length as he held you down, cutting off your airflow just as his hand had before. Your instincts took over again and you tried to pull back in order to satiate your withering lungs, but in a flash, you could feel the prick of cool metal against your throat. It was obvious that he had gotten the same reactions before. 

By the time that he finally let you up to gasp for air, you had come even closer to succumbing to the numbing darkness. Your thoughts were so muddled that you no longer knew what you wanted as he pushed you back down, only now he moved your head until he was fucking your face at an absolutely brutal pace.

The room was filled with the lewd noises of you doing the best you could to please him in your frantic state while he still did not emit more than an occasional grunt. Tears blurred your vision and you could barely breathe but it didn’t matter if this was what it took to make it all end. You had never sucked someone off before, but you knew enough from being on the receiving end that the way he pulsated in your mouth meant that he was getting close. The feeling of accomplishment was nice in a strange way with each little buck of his hips into your mouth seeming like the praise he wouldn’t give you verbally. There was a dull pain settling into your jaw from holding it open so wide, however, you kept your attention on the knife making shallow cuts on your neck with the gradually less steady hold he had on the blade. 

With renewed effort, you tried to help him along by swirling your tongue around his dick and the pleased noise he made it clear that it was working. The salty taste of Michael’s precum dominated your senses as he slowly let up on his vicious manhandling. You almost laughed with relief when at least a bit of this ordeal became easier, but even this was a victory that your stalker would never let you have.

He grabbed you by the arm roughly and pulled you off of him, tossing you halfway onto the bed as if you were a weightless doll, a toy he intended to break in the slowest manner possible. You had landed on your back and in seconds Michael got a bruising grip on your hips that ensured you would not be able to squirm away. He wasted no time in pressing himself against your tight entrance, which renewed your panic for the thousandth time that night. The scene of such a strong guy standing above you, fully intending to use you to make himself feel good was inherently erotic but so different from how you imagined your first time with another man to be.

“Wait, no! I’m not ready! Please, I’ve never—”

That was as far as he got before he pushed himself inside of you with a considerable amount of effort. You let out an animalistic cry as the searing pain tore through your lower half. Everything that Michael had done to you up until this point was nothing in comparison to the way he forcibly stretched your virgin walls to fit more of himself inside you. The remnants of your spit did little in the ways of lubricant, leaving you in complete agony as you desperately tried to relax to make this easier on yourself. 

You barely registered when he had fully buried himself inside of you because your thoughts were so jumbled, but when his hips snapped back only for him to thrust back into you, it was enough to make it obvious that you were bleeding, although you had no idea to what extent. At least it relieved some of the horrible friction, you thought. Time, your age-old enemy, had now abandoned you completely as you stared at the ceiling, feebly attempting to comprehend your current situation. 

As much as you wanted to feel as removed from this as you had been for as long as you could remember, that became impossible when Michael happened to hit a spot inside you  _ just _ right. The ghost that had haunted you for countless weeks refused to let you slip away now that he was finally reaping his reward after the long wait. You made a feeble attempt to keep your shameful moans inside by biting your lip, but as soon as he moved again your teeth drew blood. After all your injuries, it wasn’t worth it to help him by creating more.

A horrifyingly needy sound bubbled out of your throat before you could catch it and it stopped the killer for just a fraction of a second before he began to attack that part of you mercilessly. Your internal struggle had ended instantly as he showed you just how much power he had over you. Within seconds your cock was rock hard again, although Michael ignored it, so the only pleasure you got was from him playing your body like a skilled puppet master. One of his hands moved down along your thighs and pulled it forward so that he could pin it down against your chest. You groaned weakly at the added discomfort until he slammed his cock inside you again, even deeper than before with how you had been opened for him. Fresh tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but these came from painful overstimulation rather than the pure agony he had intended to inflict on you before.

In an effort to help yourself out, you slid your hand closer to your throbbing erection, but he wasn’t interested in letting you get anything out of this outside of what he provided. The masked man grabbed your wrist and bent it at such an unnatural angle that you could hear it snap almost instantly, the pain catching up only a millisecond later. You sobbed out when he tossed your useless arm down again and thrust into you with renewed vigor. It seemed like he got off on watching you suffer more than any physical sensation you could provide, but merely breaking bones could never be enough for him.

He picked up the knife and guided it to your chest, sliding it along your collarbone and down your sternum to create a thin gash above where your heart beat like that of an animal caught in a trap, which you were, in a sense. As he continued, his movements began to get more sloppy, leading to deeper slices, and you felt the distinct twitch of his cock preparing to cum inside of you. The response he gave to watching thin rivers of crimson flow across your heaving chest finally cemented him as a natural predator in your mind.

With a few more motions, Michael unloaded his hot seed inside of you. There was so much that you felt more filled than you had been by anything in a long time, which was enough to send you over the edge yourself.

Your own cum spilled all over your stomach and chest, causing a stinging sensation in the open wounds, but that was nothing compared to the intense relief of finally achieving the release you had been craving for the better part of an hour. You could not move a single part of your body as you tried to regain your breath while not even noticing Michael pull out of you and crossing the room to redress himself.

Your vision was distorted by both tears and the fading effects of lust, which was quickly being suppressed by the onslaught of pain, but as darkness overtook it your frenzied brain struggled to make sense of it. It was not until you felt pressure that you realized it was your attacker about to crush your eyes. This was the first time you were able to bring yourself to scream at the top of your lungs. When he had held the knife to you, there was the expectation that your life would be ended quickly, but you didn’t have the energy to endure any more torture at his hands.

“No! No, no, please! Anything, just not that!”

His movements were agonizingly slow, but you could feel that he was nearing the point of no return and you simply couldn’t handle it. You thrashed under him, kicking and punching as best you could with the severe damage your body had sustained, but of course, it did nothing. 

Just as you were prepared to give up your last shred of hope, the unlikeliest sound echoed through your house. The doorbell. In all the chaos, your food had completely slipped your mind and it seemed that Michael had forgotten as well even though he had likely monitored your phone call. It was a silly thought, but you wondered if he thought you were a fucking idiot as well. Everything was completely still as he contemplated if he should wait for the delivery guy to disappear, kill him as well, or figure out something else entirely.

It was only thirty or so seconds between the first ring and the second, which was soon followed by rather aggressive knocking, but to you, it felt like half an eternity. Barely anything remained of your sight, but even though he was only a blob, you could  _ feel  _ that Michael was looking down at you with a painful indifference. It would have been so much better not to have been perceived at all.

Before the third ring could come, he stood up and walked out of the room without making a single sound or even sparing you a second glance. When the man outside yelled about being on a tight schedule, you finally snapped out of your stupor and did your best to get out of your bedroom. In your reckless haste, you fell down most of the stairs and ended up unable to move at all, but you still had your voice. It was hoarse at first but with a couple of tries, you were loud enough to be heard.

“Please help me, oh my fucking god, please! It hurts so much and- and I can’t see,” you shrieked. “I need an ambulance!” You were shocked by how clearly you could explain your needs, but perhaps that was just part of your natural survival instinct.

“Holy shit, dude,” you heard through the door. It was the same voice that you had talked to over the phone. “Do you have a phone in there?”

“The door-” You were interrupted by a coughing fit that ended in a small pool of blood spreading across the floor, although it was only a red blur to you. “It’s unlocked. Kitchen. Please, just help me.” You were sure that you had broken some bones from the fall, but it was doubtful that you would have been able to move regardless.

Your savior entered quickly and tried to walk past you quickly, but one look was enough to make him vomit. With the state that you were in, who could blame him? Once he had recovered, you heard him run into the kitchen and dial a three-digit number. 

In a small town like Haddonfield, it didn’t take long for the cops to show up, along with some much needed medical professionals. The last word that passed through your lips was “Please…” as you were loaded onto a stretcher to be taken to the nearest hospital. It was funny how much you had been begging that night, only to get so little, or rather, far too much.

You slipped into unconsciousness moments later, but not before feeling the uncomfortable tingle of someone watching you once more. It would be forgotten once you awoke, but Michael Myers had decided that your game was not yet over.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a writing blog where I take commissions and stuff, so please check it out if you liked this story! Comments are also super appreciated as this is the first time I've published any of my stories!
> 
> https://indecisive-strike.tumblr.com/


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